Journey
by Zoi no miko
Summary: John Murdoch must face his own nature, abilities, and feelings, and find it in himself to take care of the city he's liberated. Fortunately, he has a very patient helpmate. John Murdoch/Daniel Schreber
1. The Fool: Fool

Standard disclaimer: I do not own or make money off of 'Dark City' or its characters, this is a work of fan fiction only. :)

Authors notes: "Journey" is a fic that was created through prompt-based writing challenge based on the 22 major arcana cards in the Tarot deck. Most of the prompts stand alone somewhat, and are of varying lengths, and approached from different character POV's and tenses depending on what worked best for that particular prompt. However, the prompts link together and are meant to be read in sequence. Here I have presented them as story chapters.

Please note that prompts 13, 16 and 17 have been heavily edited from their original format in order to keep the fic to a Mature rating for .  If you would like a link to the director's cut, please feel free to drop me a message. Please likewise be advised that this work contains mature themes including abuse and homosexuality.

Tarot - The Fool

**Fool**

"Where are you going?" He had asked John Murdoch.

The man who had, without knowing, saved his life, simply said, "Shell Beach."

And he walked off with a spring in his step, the world whirling around him as his newly awakened powers made everything perfect again. At least, everything that mattered.

Emma - Anna now, would find him there, Schreber knew. He'd made her new memories very carefully, very specifically. He was sure that, even not knowing him, she would fall for John again. Who wouldn't fall for John?

He'd landed hard on his bad leg in the fall, but after so long, Daniel Schreber was used to physical pain. What he didn't expect was the heart wrenching loneliness that overcame him as he watched Murdoch walk away. Without realizing it, Schreber had harboured the smallest spark of hope, but... for what? Friendship? Fate and chance were the only things that had brought Murdoch into his life. What reason had he to even give a second thought to the hunched, marred figure he now left behind?

And so he let Murdoch go, beautiful and optimistic and full of hope, to find his own future. And he, scarred and ugly, limped back to his office, alone.


	2. The Magician: Just like Magic

Tarot - Magician

**Just Like Magic**

John Murdoch found it difficult, sometimes, to remember that the past was not actually reality. His childhood was complete, and yet not complete. Things that should have made an impression on a young child were absent - birthday parties, his first crush, first kiss. In fact, he couldn't remember any part of school at all, other than his lessons with Schreber. Daniel.

It was a strange puzzle to figure out, and if he hadn't known that his memories were synthesized to begin with, it may well have driven him mad. For Daniel was every role in his dreams - teacher, policeman, neighbour, firefighter, it went on and on. He even remembered Daniel cleaning out fish tanks. Daniel taught and guided him, advised him, rescued him from the fire that killed his false-memory parents. And then, as John grew into adulthood, the mentor and teacher became a constant friend and solace.

The things that Daniel taught him were amazing - how to control and change matter with his mind, even levitate. How to control the machine under the city to make himself stronger. But for some reason, the memory that always came to mind first was when he thought of Daniel was when the blond man with the bright blue eyes had interrupted John from a date with Emma to give him a single red rose.


	3. High Priestess: This is Not Your Path

Tarot - High Priestess

**This is Not your Path**

Somehow, Shell Beach was not what he had expected it to be. Or rather, it was exactly as he expected it to be, and that was the problem. Every stone, tree, flower, they were all here because of him. No surprises, nothing new to learn or to explore. And so the days felt wooden, predictable. Anna was sweet and kind, but not the Emma he remembered. Still, he persisted in his chase. She was all he knew. And her laughter made him smile, made him forget about his troubles for a short time.

Exploring Shell Beach one day, she slipped on a rock, falling, gashing open her thigh. Red blood on her white dress, on the sharp rocks, on the white sand. Too much blood. He was at her side in an instant, pressing his shirt to her wound, feeling strangely calm despite her trembling form, clinging to him, gasping whimpers of pain.

Healing her came as easily as changing a building, but required a little more focus, eyes closed to sense the tissue and veins, skin, muscle, bone. So many tiny things to correct, but in the end she was whole, the stain on her dress and his shirt the only witness to what had happened. He carried her back to his house in silence, turning over and over in his mind how he was going to explain it all to her.

"Are you an angel?" She asked finally, softly, as he set her down to rest on the couch to rest.

He gave a soft chuckle, though he felt no humour in it. "No. Just a man that doesn't fit in this world." Wordlessly, he Tuned her a new dress, handing it to her despite the look in her eyes, awe with a hint of fear. "I won't look, if you want to change."

He turned his back, listening to the soft rustle of clothes as she changed, her soft question. "How do you do these things?"

A laugh, sounding more bitter than he expected. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

A hand on his shoulder. "Try me."

And suddenly, he wanted to tell her, wanted something to lift this burden off his shoulders. It all came spilling out - the start of it, waking up in the bathroom with the dead hooker, the Doctor, the Strangers, his marriage to her past self, Emma, and their difficulties. How it ended in pain and more fake memories, the Doctor's lessons to control his abilities, defeat the strangers. Everything he could remember.

She listened quietly, sometimes asking questions, and in the end she nodded. Accepting him. "I don't think this life in Shell Beach is meant for you," she told him. "Living the same as everyone else will just make you unhappy. You've been given amazing gifts... you need to embrace them. Use them. Perhaps your Doctor friend can help you?"

They made love for the first time that night, but somehow it was awkward, and he realized that whatever spark he felt for Emma, Anna could not produce in him.

It was time to move on.


	4. The Empress: Daniel Screber

Tarot - The Empress

**Doctor Daniel Poe Schreber**

John hadn't been back to the city since he made Shell Beach, and he found it different and a bit strange in the sunlight. The buildings looked kinder, inviting, and a few plants and trees had begun to bloom on the boulevard. He began to improve things as he walked, something as simple to him as breathing - fixing cracked stone, giving new life to the struggling greenery as it fought its way back from a land of eternal night.

He reached the building where Daniel had his office, making his way upstairs. The waiting room was filled with boxes - some half open, revealing piles of dusty books. He regarded them curiously, and then knocked lightly on the door to his office, the Doctor's name in neat black letters on the glass.

"Please leave the -- delivery in the waiting -- room," he heard the Doctor's familiar, halting speech pattern call from inside.

He knocked again. "Dr. Schreber? It's John Murdoch."

He heard a small crash inside, and a few seconds later the door opened. "Mr. Murdoch! I -- apologize, I wasn't expecting -- a visitor. Please, come in. My apologies -- for the mess."

The inside of Daniel's office looked very much like the outside - piles of books in various stages of cleaning and repair, slowly being loaded onto the towers of empty bookshelves that lined the psychiatrist's office. There was a large cage by the window, and he could see inside what looked like three very pampered white rats. "Please... call me John. It's too strange to hear you sound so formal after the memories you gave me."

The doctor looked a little surprised, and almost shy. "Of course - my apologies. Please -- feel free to call me Daniel -- if you wish."

John found himself smiling, somehow perfectly at ease with the doctor, despite the other man's skittish body language. "This is a lot of books."

"Yes, I - I have been collecting them -- from all over the city. They are -- one of the few things we -- have left, a -- key to the past, you might say. I wish to -- study them. And make them available -- to anyone with questions. Now that the city is -- free of the Strangers -- I hope that we can all -- regain our individuality."

John turned to look at him, the doctor's hands fidgeting a little with the pockets of his white lab coat, which was smudged with dust. "That's quite the undertaking."

Daniel was silent for a moment, and then replied simply. "It keeps me -- busy."

John nodded slowly, still watching him, and was silent for so long that the Doctor begun to get antsy.

"Mr - John, what gives me -- the pleasure of your -- presence?" He asked finally, and John smiled.

"I want to help you, and the city. But I don't know where to start. I was hoping you might be able to guide me."

Daniel smiled suddenly, crookedly with twisted lips. It was nothing like the smiles he remembered from his memories, from the strong and confident teacher and friend, but John somehow found he liked it better. It was endearing. Real.

"I would be -- more than happy to, John."


	5. The Emporer: John Murdoch

Tarot - The Emperor

**John Murdoch**

Daniel could never get over John Murdoch's eyes, strong and full of purpose. In the beginning, he envied that. John had a place in the world, a role. A memory, no matter how synthesized it was. Daniel had nothing but blank spots interspersed with memories of his work for the Strangers; memories of his betrayal of mankind.

Returning to his office the night the Strangers had been defeated, he'd viewed the room with dispassionate eyes. And then he started to purge. Any reminder of his work for the Strangers was put away or thrown out, paperwork safely filed in neat brown boxes in the storage room, the ever-changing maze for his rats rolled out onto the elevator and then to the curb for the trash man to take away. He went to release the three lab rats, but at the last minute, he chickened out. He couldn't bare the thought of being alone in the office without another living being. Instead he bought a massive cage, big enough for 20 mice to live comfortably, and set it up by the window for them. After all, they had a lot in common, him and the rats.

Then he'd thought about the books. His own library had been neatly catalogued, arranged alphabetically, each title written on little cards which he'd filed by subject. It had been the only way to keep track of anything when the Strangers had insisted on wiping his memory every few months. So, slowly at first, he started to add titles, searching out little book shops and unused houses, sometimes ending up with huge boxes shipped to his office.

He told himself that it was to keep busy, but the truth was... he had no other purpose.

And then one unremarkable, ordinary day, John Murdoch came to his office, John with his clear green eyes and dark curls and his voice, rich and smooth like cream. He'd been so surprised to hear that voice that he'd knocked over an entire stack of books in his haste to answer the door. John, who always caused the most peculiar - but so lovely - sensations and emotions to come over him. Who made him feel alive again. John speaking to him: Help me. Teach me. Guide me.

And in his mind, Daniel replied: Yes. Anything you ask of me, I will give you. Just let me stay by your side, let me work for you, let me follow you. Give me a purpose, a reason to continue. Give me a place in this world, and I will be yours forever.

But in reality, he just smiled, held captive by those beautiful green eyes. "I would be -- more than happy to, John."


	6. Wheel of Fortune: Friendship & Trust

Tarot - Wheel of Fortune

**Friendship and Trust  
**

Daniel, it turned out, had the entire floor of the building to himself. "It was easier," he explained, "For them, if they could always -- find me in one place." He offered John the spare room in his apartment, which was cozy and comfortable, albeit a little dusty from lack of use. He wondered a little why Daniel would even have need of a spare room, but he certainly had no complaints that he did.

In fact, he began to wonder why he hadn't thought of Daniel long ago. There was a comfort, in being around him, like he'd known him for his whole life - which, he reflected, was almost true, at least as far as his fake memories were concerned. But this Daniel was different from the man he remembered in his dreams - the teacher who guided him, kindly but firmly pushing him to learn, to achieve, to make him strong enough to defeat the Strangers. No, this Daniel was calm. Still just as kind, but quiet, gentle. Patient. Smiling when John spoke and answering his questions in detail, no matter how frivolous, regardless of the broken speech pattern caused by his troubled breathing.

"What happened to you?" John asked one morning, as they sat over a light breakfast and hot milk tea in the small, tidy kitchen. "The way you breathe, the limp..." he stopped, not wanting to continue the list.

Daniel looked a little surprised at his inquiry, but smiled, that patient smile from the lips that twisted from the scars on his face. "Them, I'm afraid. Some of these -- I remember getting, but I can't -- answer to all of them. They wiped my -- memories fairly often, you see. Punishment for -- disobedience. Mr. Hand liked -- his knife... ah, it doesn't matter. They couldn't kill me, of course. I was too -- valuable to them. But I think they found -- that it was easier to keep track of me, control me -- like this. If I couldn't -- run very far." A soft laugh, with just a hint of bitterness.

"I'm sorry," John said softly, finding himself both enraged and surprisingly saddened by his words, but not knowing what else to say.

The doctor shook his head. "It doesn't -- trouble me, not much. It's a reminder. Not to -- go quietly, into the night," he stated, looking a little introspective, though John couldn't place the significance of his words. Daniel turned to him, blue eyes catching the gaze of his green ones with a sudden intensity. Pleading. "Please don't believe -- that I did what I did willingly, John."

John found himself shaking his head, not breaking eye contact. "No... I don't. You couldn't do something like that."

"Thank you," he replied softly, and his visible relief came coupled with a strange kind of vulnerability, and some other emotion that John couldn't quite identify. "You..." he started, then stopped, shaking his head a little. "Thank you. It's... very kind of you."

John reached over to place a hand gently on his forearm, which seemed to calm the other man a little. "There's no need to thank me. No friendship without trust, right?"

Daniel gave him a small smile, looking down at the hand on his arm, covering it with his free hand. "It's strange... how easily people talk -- of friendship and -- trust. Really, they are the greatest strengths, the greatest -- gifts -- of the human race. Something that they -- never learned, I think." He raised his eyes again, voice even softer. "It means -- a lot to me, to have you -- here. Thank you, John."

John smiled, feeling an unexpected warmth at his words, warm like Daniel's hand on his. And he realized how very true Daniel's words were, and how fortunate he was to have Daniel as a support, as a constant amongst all this uncertainty. "No," he replied softly, "Thank you."


	7. The Hermit: Introspection

Tarot - The Hermit

**Introspection**

Sometimes Daniel wondered if John really knew how many times he'd saved him. There was the obvious time, of course. John had saved the entire city from the Strangers, and in doing so saved him from a lifetime of forced service against his fellow man that was slowly killing him, killing his soul.

But the less obvious threat was despair. Daniel had been almost completely lost - when the world had changed, when the Strangers had been defeated, cut off from their source of power, and killed or destroyed by water or sunlight. While everyone around him had continued with their lives, unaware of what was going on, protected by the fake memories he'd given them... Daniel had nothing. No memory of anything beyond the Stranger's brutality, nightmares that haunted him when he slept. Nothing beyond his betrayal of his own people. He wasn't even particularly sure how to exercise his practice, his title meaningless without the memories of his education so long ago. He could read people, he understood motivations and the impacts that events and history would have on various personalities, but it was hardly a skill that would re-integrate him with society.

Worse was the slow realization that even though the Strangers were gone, the city wasn't out of danger. There were fundamental building blocks of society that were missing, blocks that the strangers had taken care of, or that were simply not necessary with their control of the city, their power. Things that were far beyond the power of a strong man, let alone a cripple like him, someone that people's eyes tried to gloss over, tried to forget. He'd forced himself to become numb to the effect of their cruelty, but the truth was, it hurt far more than the wounds that had caused his scars.

The loneliness was killing him.

When John had appeared at his door, Daniel had clung to him, figuratively. Desperate for a place in the world. For company. But what he hadn't realized was how much more John would bring with him than simply company. Somehow, there was a deep connection between them immediately - the two people in a city of thousands who knew the truth. And Daniel began to feel human again, began to feel something other than pain and fear. Even when he realized his desire for the other man, it was a good feeling, something to hold and tuck aside safely in the bottom of his heart to treasure in quiet moments when he was alone. He couldn't begin to think that a feeling like that could be felt toward him, and certainly not by someone like John - so full of life and laughter, so strong. But it was beautiful, to him, to feel that way. To feel alive.

There were many things that needed to be done in the city in order to ensure that the little society would be able to function and thrive. Things of such a magnitude that it frightened him a little to contemplate them, things that he wasn't quite sure how to tell John about. Things that he couldn't even begin to do without John's help. So, he slowly, carefully started to gather the information he needed, to form the building blocks of a plan. Hoping, trusting that when he finally knew what to do, that his new friend wouldn't turn him away.


	8. The Hierophant: Responsibility

Tarot - The Hierophant

**Responsibility**

"I want to help you, and the city," he had told Schreber. Daniel, he thought with a smile, thinking of the harmony of their friendship. They started small. Repairs to roadways, bridges, unfinished items that the strangers had left undone, that seemed glaringly wrong in the light of day, were made right. It was easier than John had expected, to Tune scaffolding and Tarps up over a project, Tune the bridge or building underneath with the people around them none the wiser. Remove the scaffolding sometime later.

Then there was the Machines. Daniel had explained to him patiently how they worked, how the city ran. He knew about the primary machine, of course. The one that they had used to boost their powers, that he now used to boost his. Daniel-the-teacher had drilled it into his memory - his false memories. But with the need to educate him so quickly and completely on how to defeat the strangers, Daniel had sensibly left out many of the small, unnecessary details of how the city worked, survived.

There was food, of course. Machines that created it, the stranger's ability in its most simple form, creating from hydrocarbons the basic foodstuffs required by the city. Fresh fruit and vegetables, grains, meats. Processed food in cans and boxes. It auto-populated in large warehouses at midnight, during the time the strangers would have been completing their nightly alterations. The grocers, the warehouse managers, believed that it was brought in by train, by a night crew. But the machines were set to certain parameters, certain quantities, and required adjustments. With human appetites unpredictable, certain things were piling up while other foodstuffs had become scarce. They found one particular warehouse that unfortunately housed a large quantity of rotten eggplant, and subsequently a horrible stench that stuck to their clothes long after John had disposed of it, tuned it back into its base elements, back into what he had begin to think of as the "core" of the city, a formless mass of substances, molecules he could pull from and build from as he Tuned, like so much plasticine.

He'd tried to explain it to Daniel, once. How exactly it worked, that he was able to create objects out of seemingly thin air. Daniel had listened aptly, patient with his fumbling attempts at communication, probing with questions when he failed, but eventually they had to give up. "It just... works," he'd said lamely.

Daniel had smiled, patted his arm affectionately. "That's what matters, yes?"

But as days went by, he couldn't help but notice that Daniel seemed troubled, preoccupied. He began to stay in the office when John went out into the city, pouring over papers, and one time John came back to find him calling through the phone book, taking notes, looking troubled. The doctor had forced a smile when he entered, and hung up the phone, moving towards him with his uneven gait. He handed him a few pieces of paper, neatly folded in three. "John. I was -- hoping that you could -- do me a favour. I am in need -- of some records from -- city hall. The last census. Could you perhaps -- bring me paper copies?"

"Of course... what for?"

Daniel hesitated. "It is a -- small problem that I -- am trying to work out," he said finally. "I will try to -- explain a little better -- when I know more. Please forgive me."

John had nodded, still confused, and left to do as he asked, though the paper copies of the spooled microfilm ended up being several hundred sheets thick.

Several nights later, he'd gotten up in the middle of the night for water to find the light in the office on. Pushing open the door, he'd found Daniel asleep at his desk, slumped over one of the records he'd brought back. The census, two columns of names in small print, was covered with notes in his tidy, copperplate handwriting, some of the names with a neat black line through them. He carefully moved the half full cup of tea away from Daniel's elbow, and then shook him gently. "Daniel? This isn't bed...."

The doctor woke with a start, wincing as he sat upright. "John. I am sorry, I -- was trying to finish this. I have -- had a few late nights...."

John shook his head slowly, trying to make sense of the list, of the scattered sheets of looseleaf filled with Daniel's neat writing next to the lists. "This project of yours looks a lot more intense than you keep saying," he said, drawing a fist across his eye to rid it of some sleep. "Why don't you tell me what's going on and we can tackle it together?"

Daniel sighed, straightening up a few papers. "Yes. I think that -- would be much preferred," he said, a little wearily. "But let me -- tidy this, organize it -- tomorrow. There are a few more -- things I need to check. Then we can -- attack this, yes?" A little smile.

Something about his manner betrayed nervousness, worry. And John wasn't quite convinced that he was telling the entire truth. "Okay. You promise you'll tell me tomorrow?"

"I promise."

"All right." He helped the doctor to his feet, walking with him back to the apartment, making sure he went into his bedroom before going back to bed himself.

When he awoke the next morning, Daniel was back at work, a fresh pot of tea on the edge of the desk with an empty cup. "Please tell me you slept...."

Daniel looked up with a smile, but he didn't look much more refreshed than he had the night before. "John. Of course I did." He stood, taking a felt marker and moving to an easel that leaned against the wall behind the desk, a thick pad of paper hanging from it. "I have one more -- small request, if you don't mind. Will you -- fetch one more set -- of records for me?"

John nodded slowly. "Whatever you need...."

"Thank you." Daniel drew a circle on the paper, a spiral. Marking points, small labels, and slowly John began to clue in. "The city...?"

"The underneath," Daniel replied, and though his voice was calm, his eyes betrayed his unease. "Their realm. I am in need of -- the paperwork detailing their -- last set of experiments. I would go with you, however -- I believe I would only serve -- to slow you down." An apologetic smile, but John could tell that the thought terrified him. He couldn't blame him. He clarified a few items, then folded the sketched map and left.

It wasn't that he was afraid of the realm of the Strangers, he just didn't like it very much. And so he hadn't really been back, not since the day that he'd ended their perpetual night. He didn't particularly need to. He could feel the machines with his mind wherever he was in the city. And he had no interest in exploring their leftovers. Plus, it was cold, and lit with an artificial glow that made it seem colder. John much preferred the sunlight.

What Daniel was looking for did not end up being easy to find. The underneath had been badly damaged in their final battle, and it was difficult to navigate. He finally ended up resorting to using one of their lifts to move more quickly through the tunnels, stopping many times to clear them of large pieces of rubble so that he could proceed. Then, once he reached the room full of records that Daniel had marked so carefully on the map, he discovered that they were written in characters that made no sense to him at all. After a frustrating hour or more of puzzling over the shelves and shelves of files, he'd finally just piled up anything that looked like it could be important or recent onto the lift and taken it all back with him.

It was late afternoon when he returned back to the surface, Tuning a cart to carry the paperwork, pushing it out through the door he'd created in the wall, into Daniel's building, up to his office.

The teapot had moved, as well as much of the papers, but Daniel was still in the same place at his desk, reading, making notes. He stood up suddenly as John entered, eyes widening at the cart.

"What....?"

"I can't read this garbage," John answered, the words sounding grumpier than he'd intended.

Daniel looked a little puzzled, crossing to the cart and picking up a file to flip through it. "But it's... oh. I didn't realize -- I apologize...." A little chuckle of surprise. "It seems it is their language -- after all. Please don't -- worry. I can understand this. They must have taught me -- in the same method that I taught you -- to use the machines. Just don't ask me to --" He made a couple of clicking noises with his tongue, and chuckled. "- speak it."

John ignored the joke, too irritated for humor. "Can you tell me what this all means now?"

Daniel hesitated. "Since you cannot -- help me, I'm afraid it will take me -- a little more time to finish...."

John shrugged, irritation turning toward Daniel now despite himself. "You finish, I'm going to go get dinner. Then you're going to stop this long enough to eat."

The doctor seemed a little surprised, but smiled. "Thank you, John."

He did eat when John returned, quickly, returning to the papers, hardly speaking. John watched him quietly as the sun sank lower in the sky, still feeling rather annoyed at all the fuss and secrecy, turning on the office lights as the sunlight died. Finally Daniel stood, stretching with a long sigh before picking up the thick pile of census papers that John had retrieved for him days earlier, which he'd written all over. Handing it to John. "My apologies -- John. You have been most -- patient with me. I can tell you anything -- you wish to know."

John looked down at the page on top, the notes next to the names that weren't crossed out. "Can you start by telling me what on earth this all is? Why are these people significant? I assume they are significant?"

Daniel opened his mouth, and then hesitated. "It may be better -- to show you. If you don't mind, could you --" He waved a hand to the bookshelves. "Tack the census list -- to the shelves?"

It was easy to do so, papers whirling, and by the time he was done, almost every inch of the books were covered in paper, in lists of names with lines through them. "Ok, I still see lists. Who are the people you haven't crossed out?"

Daniel swallowed. "They are the people that -- exist."

For a moment, he didn't understand. "What do you mean, exist?"

"I mean," Daniel said calmly, "That these are -- all of us, all the people who were brought here -- who are still alive."

John stepped closer to the wall, scanning the list. "How many names are on this list?"

"Approximately -- one hundred fifty thousand -- "

"You went through a hundred and fifty thousand names?" He interrupted, incredulous.

"-- left," Daniel finished. "Of nearly four -- hundred thousand."

He looked over a few of the sheets, shaking his head slightly. "Why would they go through the trouble of adding all these extra people? I don't get it."

"The appearance -- of normalcy. Our city was only -- running during the night. Think about how many people -- would be sleeping. That you would never see if you -- worked at night. You would expect -- all these buildings in -- the city, to be full, yes? But even our building -- is empty, except for us."

"How have we not noticed a half empty city...?" he mused, half to himself, then turned to Daniel. "Are you sure?"

A grim smile. "I believe that I -- know my former subjects -- at least this well."

"What does this mean?"

"In some cases -- nothing," the blonde replied carefully. "But in some -- it is merely a matter of -- time, until...." he held up his hands helplessly. "Someone finds out. Everyone -- finds out. And then, at best -- anarchy."

John shook his head again. "It's been over two months since I killed Book. Things are fine."

"John, where is our -- mayor?"

"Mayor McDougal?" He thought back to newspapers he'd seen in the stores. "He's off on that state...." John's voice trailed off. "There is no mayor."

Daniel nodded slowly. "As well as many members of the -- local government, for a start. And only three -- firemen. And many other occupations that -- over time may cause a great deal of -- trouble if they are not filled."

John held out his hands helplessly. "We don't even have a bloody fire department?"

"You are able to put out fire -- with your mind," Daniel replied patiently. "However, I am not certain that you-- can be everywhere at once, like they -- could."

John found himself still shaking his head slowly, and sat down a little weakly at the small table in Daniel's office, pushing aside a pile of paper covered with the stranger's scratchings. "What the hell are we supposed to do about this?"

Daniel sat as well, watching him carefully. "It will take quite a bit -- of planning, John. Some things can be -- changed with simple recruitment, with -- high salaries. Take each role, and take someone from -- a lesser role to fill it. Condense the city -- into a smaller area, a manageable area -- by buying off unused buildings, moving the -- inhabitants. Some things will be a bit -- more difficult. The entire non-existent fire -- department, for example, would need a reason -- to be replaced. Perhaps a carefully formulated -- tragedy...."

John shook his head, finding himself balking at the sheer magnitude of what the Doctor was suggesting. "Reorganize the entire city? Something like that would take months, even years to make happen, even with my abilities. There has to be another alternative."

Daniel was silent for a long moment, watching him with some emotion that John couldn't quite place. "There... is..." he said finally, "But I would really rather -- not...."

"Tell me," John cut him off, unable to place the source of his frustration. Perhaps the situation, or the Strangers for placing them there, perhaps he was frustrated at himself for not realizing sooner that something like this was happening behind the scenes. But everything irritated him, even Daniel, patient Daniel with his eloquent speech that John found entirely too long-winded at that moment."

Daniel gave a soft sign, steepling his fingers in front of his face, quiet for long enough that John even found himself getting irritated with that. "The vaults," the doctor started, finally, before John could probe again for an answer. "Where they stored -- our memories. Or rather, the chemicals they -- used to make them. There is a very good probability that -- they did indeed survive your fight. So the second option would be -- to plan new memories, for every inhabitant, to ensure that the city's -- basic needs are met. One final identity change. If you can make the city -- sleep, like they could, then..." an extreme look of distaste crossed over the doctor's face. "I could mix them."

John stared at him, incredulous. "You're kidding me. You want to... you want me to be like Them?"

Now it was the doctor's turn to look a little irritated. "I do not want anything -- of the sort."

"Then why - "

"You asked me --" Daniel actually cut him off, "For an alternative. This, I gave you. If you are not in favor of this -- solution, or my first one, perhaps you would like -- to offer some ideas?"

He had nothing, and Daniel knew it, but he didn't feel like admitting it. "How about this? We do nothing and let everyone else fend for their own damn selves."

The doctor looked almost horrified at the suggestion. "You don't really -- mean that...."

"And why not? I didn't ask for any of this, Daniel, I didn't ask to suddenly be Master and Commander of this goddamn city."

Misery in blue eyes. "John... your powers are a gift. We would be remiss in our -- duty, if we didn't... it is our obligation -"

"Lets get one thing straight," John cut him off by setting both hands down on the table hands down, creating a louder than anticipated thump. "I already saved this damn city once. I have no obligations to save it again. I don't owe anyone anything."

Something changed in Daniel, shutters that went up over the emotion in his blue eyes, and he straightened, standing. "You're right," he replied, the tone of his voice carefully neutral, but to John it might as well be ice cold. "You don't -- owe anyone -- anything. " He crossed the room to the coat stand, shrugging into his jacket, reaching for the chocolate brown fedora.

John turned, not standing. "Where are you going?"

"Out. If you will pardon me." Words, still cold, as he put his hat on. "I wish to -- clear my head."

Then he left in silence, the office door clicking shut behind him.


	9. The Tower: Crumbling

Tarot - The Tower

**Crumbling**

It takes John several moments to react, staring at the piles of paper on the table, the lists stuck to the walls. Then slowly it sinks in - Daniel has left. Daniel has... walked out on him. Walked out on the argument. And he'd just... sat there and let him leave. He stands, hurrying out of the office, hammering on the button for the aggravatingly slow elevator for several infuriating minutes before tuning the door open in frustration, dropping efficiently down the shaft to the ground floor. When he reaches the street, Daniel is already almost a block ahead of him, moving purposefully in the dim twilight despite his uneven gait.

John starts after him, then stops, a sudden whiff of the reek of decay, of rot, reaching his nose, and something dark and ragged and not-quite-human in leather rags staggers out from between two buildings, between him and Daniel. That horrid clicking noise in the air. His mind rejects the unfamiliar for a moment, and then he realizes what it is. "Hey - !"

It stiffens at his call, and Daniel turns toward him, spotting it. Then there is a flash of steel in the thing's hand, and a Daniel staggers and falls, a red stain slowly seeping through his shirt....

He is running without hesitation, and part of his concentration reaches for the decaying Stranger, ripping off the back of its skull with his mind, tearing apart the thing inside. Had it followed him up from underneath the city, from his visit earlier? The details don't matter. It screams, dying, and people across the street are screaming, but all he can hear are Daniel's helpless, painful gasps, the stranger's signature blade neatly embedded up to the hilt in the center of his sternum. "Oh god, Daniel - !"

"John..." the doctor gasps his name as John kneels beside him, his face dangerously pale, and then his eyes roll back on his head.

John gathers him up in his arms, his insides sick and quivering with shock and fear, his mind not wanting to process the possibility of anything happening to Daniel, not wanting to process the sudden shocked realization that he can't do without him, that he needs him. That his heart is breaking at the thought of losing him.

He fights to regain his concentration, to do everything that he needs to take care of now. Part of his mind is focused on stopping the blood, so much blood gone already, so much blood spilt on the pavement, soaked into his shirt. Part of his mind is forcing oxygen into those damaged lungs. Part of his mind is holding Daniel's heart, ever so gently coaxing the organ to beat, to keep pumping the life blood through his veins. He is aware of someone running to him, shaking him, talking to him about - an ambulance? An ambulance can't help, not this time. Part of him shoves the person away, a strong gust of energy, keeping back those who would distract him.

And then he takes the last part if his concentration and starts to heal Daniel. Slowly, ever so slowly, he starts to work the knife from his chest, mending tissue, repairing veins and arteries, repairing the long-damaged tissue in his lungs to let his body absorb the badly needed oxygen. He can hear the whine of the machines under the city as he pushes them faster, harder than they are intended to work, and a red hot knot of pain forms behind his eyes, but he fights through it, Tuning so very carefully. Nothing exists around him but the task he is undertaking, Daniel's body in his arms, and the pain behind his eyes, raw and harsh and red. But he can't stop, he can't let Daniel die.

Finally there is a clatter as the knife falls to the sidewalk. He tries to close up the remaining shallow wound, but the world around him goes black, and he collapses over top of the doctor, on the cold pavement.


	10. The Hanged Man: Sacrifice

Tarot - The Hanged Man  
**  
Sacrifice**

_ In his dreams, he meets with the Daniel from his fake memories, strong and whole, with none of the scarring that the strangers have inflicted on him. They sit together on the sand at Shell Beach, where Daniel has never been. The rock against John's back is warm from the sun, which is slowly setting on the horizon._

He looks to Daniel. "I'm in love with you," he finds himself saying, and the other man smiles, watching him with two perfect blue eyes.

"I know. But it won't work out, you know."

"Why?"

"Because you still want the normal life that you cannot have." The doctor leans back against the rock, watching John out of the corner of his eyes. "That's why we fought, wasn't it? Because part of you still wants a little house with a picket fence and 2.5 children with Emma. You can't reconcile yourself to the responsibility that comes with your powers. The responsibility that I must take, in recompense for all that I have done to you, to everyone in this city. And so you and I will always be at odds."

John sighs, thinking back on everything, the fake memories of his childhood in Shell Beach, growing up, meeting Emma. And Daniel, always Daniel. Daniel and his single red rose. "I don't know if I can do it," he admits. "I'm afraid that if I alone took control of the city... that the power would corrupt me."

"No one ever said that you had to do it alone," dream-Daniel murmurs, his hand moving to cover John's where it sits on the sand, bringing with it a warm sense of comfort, of purpose. He smiles as John turns back to look at him, and leans into him to press a kiss to his lips, which doesn't feel like a kiss at all, but like a whisper of wind, a breath of hope, warm and golden and wholesome.

"I think," John murmurs, more to himself than anything else, "That it might be better to do things that way, after all. With you. Better than a white picket fence." And with the realization, his dream self relaxes, and slips back into the comfortable velvet darkness of a dreamless sleep. 


	11. Death: Revelation

Tarot - Death

**Revelation**

When John wakes up, he is in a bed with crisp white linens, white walls, white blinds. There are electrodes attached to his chest, a needle in his arm, and he removes both without a second thought, climbing out of bed, getting rid of the hospital gown and pulling on his clothes, which are neatly folded on a chair beside the bed. He rubs his temples against a pounding headache, trying to go over in his mind what had happened.

"Mr. Murdoch?" A nurse, just coming in the door. "You shouldn't be up, you've been out for two days...."

"Where's Daniel?" He interrupts, trying again at her blank look. "Daniel Schreber. The man I was with. The blonde man with the scarred eye. I need to see him."

Her face shows sudden recognition. "Oh - he's all right, he's at the end of the hall, but you can't... Mr. Murdoch!"

He pushes past her without waiting for her to finish, striding quickly down the hallway, outdistancing the sound of her footsteps as she chases after him. He finds the room he is looking for after a few false guesses, and shuts the door behind him, locking it with a touch of concentration that makes his pounding headache explode into a shower of pain. He gropes for a chair, sitting down weakly, blinded for a moment by the searing pain. "Oh, god..."

"... John?" The softest voice pulls him from his pain, and he looks up at the bed to find the blue eyes of his friend.

He manages to get to his feet, moving to the bed, watching him silently for a moment before reaching a hand out to tentatively touch the side of his face, fingers ghosting over his skin, over the oxygen tubing taped under his nose. "How are you feeling?"

Daniel draws a deep breath, closing his eyes briefly. "Well... I can breathe more easily than I have in a very long time. But other than that... a bit like death warmed over." He looks up at John, eyes serious. "That creature was one of Them, wasn't it? John... I felt, I saw the knife in my chest...."

John gives a slow nod, emotions in turmoil, trying to figure out how he should broach the subject that his mind can't move away from. "I... healed you."

The doctor's eyebrows knit slightly. "Why...?"

John closes his eyes for a moment against a shudder of anger, disappointment at himself that Daniel would even question it. He lets out a deep breath, then finds Daniel's hand amongst the sheets, covering it with his own. "You were right about the city. I'm sorry. I was running away from what I am. I'm just..." He stops, and shakes his head, not knowing how to express himself. "I didn't mean to fight with you. I'm sorry."

Daniel watches John's hand silently, then turns his own over and slowly twines their fingers together. "I didn't mean to push you, John. The truth is, I feel very responsible for this mess, because of what I've done... but I shouldn't project that on you. I'm sorry."

He shakes his head. "No, you...." He sighs, and tries again. "I wasn't prepared for how I would feel... when I saw you there with the knife in your chest."

Daniel gives a soft, weary smile, ever the psychiatrist. "How did it make you feel?"

Green eyes meet Daniel's blue ones, searching them, needing him to understand. "I didn't want to go on without you."

"Anything I have is yours," the doctor replies, his voice soft, fingers squeezing John's weakly.

John looks down at their hands, silent for a long moment. "Just... tell me you'll let me stay with you...."

The doctor nods slowly, a little wearily. "I'd never turn you away, John. You know that. What is it that you really want?"

Hesitation. "What I want isn't something that can't be asked for, only earned, my friend."

"Perhaps you've already earned it," Daniel replies softly, evenly. "Try me."

John thinks about the million things he could say, but in the end, he jumps into it head first, tearing his eyes from Daniel's, unable to bring himself to witness Daniel's rejection. "I know this sounds crazy, and I'm... a man, but... I think I'm in love with you."

There is silence, and then a soft squeeze of Daniel's fingers, pulling back his gaze to him. Surprise in his blue eyes, and gratitude, and growing wonder. "John..." he replies, softly," ... my heart is already yours. My heart has been yours for a very long time."

For a moment, John can't find the words, can't find anything to say, his heart painfully tight in his chest, and he almost forgets to breathe. Then he leans over the bed to kiss him, warm and lingering, feeling Daniel's other hand moving up to stroke through his curls, cup the back of his head. And he knows that this will change everything but at the same time, with Daniel by his side, maybe it won't be so frightening after all.


	12. The Lovers: Love

Tarot - The Lovers

**Love**

The hospital keeps them for another few days for observation, and John spends it all in Daniel's room. Talking softly, Daniel's hand in his, wondering at the tightness that grips his chest whenever he sees him, at the giddy mix of adoration and desire whenever he touches him. They speak of the city, the changes they will make together, of making sure that no more of the Strangers survive. They speak of John's abilities, which apparently have a limit, his ability to Tune overworked and fatigued, like the body after a marathon. And slowly, shyly, they talk about each other, of John's unexpected but wonderful realization of needing not Anna, but another man, needing Daniel, of thoughts and feelings and words of love that make Daniel smile so irresistibly, make his pale cheeks pink, make John's heart race.

Gradually, his headaches fade. Daniel regains his strength, and they are allowed to go home.

Daniel's office and his apartment are just as they left them, right down to the empty teacups on the table, which John washes silently, the old fashioned way, in the sink. Daniel comes up behind him, letting a hand rest on his back, and John can feel the warmth of it through his shirt. "You don't have to do that, John."

John shakes his head and smiles, setting the clean cups upside-down on a tea towel to dry. "It's the least I can do, since you've been so kind to let me stay here."

Daniel is smiling as he turns to face him, and slips a hand into John's. "I think you're a little more than a guest here, now. Are you not?"

John wets his lips, leaning closer to him, closing his eyes and letting his forehead rest gently against Daniel's, and his heart is pounding so loudly in his chest that he's sure that Daniel must be able to hear it. "I... I am anything you would like me to be. Anything you want from me is yours."

He feels Daniel's fingers stroke gently through his hair, cupping his face, his voice ever so soft, hesitant. "Just... love me. Let me stay by your side and I... I will be yours forever."

He smiles, turning his face to nuzzle Daniel's palm, and his hand slips up into Daniel's hair, urging his head to tilt ever so slightly so that he can lean in to kiss him. It's different, he realizes instantly, than it had been in the hospital, kept apart by hospital beds and wires and tubes. It's real now, almost electric, and Daniel is trembling just a little under his touch. The doctor presses closer to him, letting go of John's hand to slip his arms around his waist, hands slowly stroking over his hips and back as he yields to John's kiss. This is what was missing, John realizes, what he couldn't find with Anna. Knowing that he wasn't alone anymore. Knowing completion.

Daniel's lips part with a soft sigh, inviting, and John lets himself indulge, tasting him, pulling him against him, hearing the softest moan escape his throat, unbidden. Daniel radiates warmth, and tastes somehow like honey and sunlight, golden like his hair, and he finds that he somehow can't get enough of kissing him, indulging again and again until they are forced to part simply to catch their breath.

"How did I ever do without you?" He murmurs softly, and the doctor gives a soft, warm chuckle, letting his head nestle into John's shoulder, nuzzling his neck.

"We think the same thoughts, love."


	13. Strength: Beautiful

Tarot - Strength

**Beautiful**

Daniel wore his heart on his sleeve, John had come to realize. At least, when he was with John, he did, and had since the beginning when John came back to the city. Or maybe even before that, when chance threw them together into the whirlwind of danger and discovery that they somehow survived. He could always read Daniel's emotions from his face, from the way he moved or held himself. And most of all, from his eyes, as much as he tried to hide them behind the wire rim glasses, behind his damaged right eyelid. Blue, like the sea, and just as changeable.

He lifted Daniel's face from his shoulder to look into them, fingers stroking the damaged right side of his face gently, and Daniel's eyes held wonder, and that other emotion that they so often held when he looked at him, that John hadn't ever been able to place before now. Need. Love.

"You're beautiful," he whispered, and Daniel looked away immediately, pulling from John's touch, but not before he saw fear, and a little hurt.

"Don't," Daniel murmured, and wet his lips. "You are... you are very kind, love, but don't lie for my sake, please. I can't bear it."

"Daniel...."

"Please," the doctor's voice wavered, and John moved to silence him with his mouth, pulling him tightly against him, kissing him hard, again and again, trying to calm his trembling.

"It's not a lie," he hissed, and Daniel shook his head, trying to pull away.

"I'm not the man from your memories, John. You don't know - you haven't seen...."

"I feel." John cut him off, holding him fast. "What I haven't seen doesn't matter. I know you. I love you."

Daniel clung to him, burying his face in his shoulder, and John pressed his lips to his hair, stroking it gently, stroking his back, his body tense under his touch. "John... forgive me. I... I am afraid, even now."

"I won't hurt you," John murmured, and Daniel gave a soft, trembling sigh in reply.

"I know. I... should trust. What is love, without trust?" the softest, sad laugh. "But I can't help but think that you deserve so much better than me."

John sighed softly against his hair. "Let me show you, then," he said, still stroking, down his hair, down his back, trying to comfort him. "Give you a basis for trust. I need you. No one else, just you. You... complete me. Let me show you how beautiful that is to me."

Daniel lifted his head, searching his eyes with blue ones full of turbulence, uncertainty. Vulnerable. Finally finding the courage to answer, his voice soft. "Please...."

John nodded slowly, pulling away, finding one of Daniel's hands with his, leading him wordlessly to what he knew was Daniel's bedroom. It was neat as a pin. He turned back the covers on the large, comfortable looking bed, and sat, patting the mattress beside him with an encouraging smile, finding it as comfortable as it looked.

Daniel settled beside him, reaching to embrace him, to accept his kisses without hesitation, without question. Slowly relaxing into them, under John's touch as he stroked his hands slowly, gently over his chest. He deftly slipped the buttons of his vest undone, one by one, and was met with no protest as he slipped it off his shoulders, setting it aside. Stroking his chest through his neat white shirt, slowly doing the same with its buttons, letting one hand slip inside.

"John..." the doctor tried to protest, and he silenced it with another gentle kiss.

"Shhh, love... trust me." Daniel's skin was soft, delicate feeling. Fragile. And uneven, covered with what he was sure must be patches of scar tissue. He let his fingers smooth over them, slowly, gently mapping them by touch, and he could feel Daniel shivering against him. "Are you ok, love?"

The doctor's breath hitched as John's fingertips brushed a nipple, stopping to tease it gently. "It... feels good..." he managed to reply, softly.

"Good." John smiled, nuzzling his cheek, dropping soft kisses just behind his ear, down his neck, ever so slowly easing his shirt back as he kissed across his shoulder. His other hand continued it's slow exploration, and while he wasn't entirely sure he was doing things right, Daniel certainly seemed to like it, his breath growing more laboured, fingers tangling in John's hair.

Daniel gave a soft whimper of protest when he tugged his shirt off one arm, but John smoothed it away, moving to kiss the hollow of his throat, gently coaxing his other arm from the fabric and setting it aside.

His lover pulled back a little, arms wrapping around himself self-consciously, but unable to hide the myriad of thin white scars that latticed over his chest, shoulders and upper arms, even on top of what looked like burn scarring, shiny and mottled on his right side. Then he moved suddenly, curling into him, trembling, hiding his face in John's hair. "I'm sorry...."

John dropped soft kisses to his hair, wrapping his arms around him. "Do they still hurt you?"

Daniel hesitated, then shook his head slightly. "Not physically. I'm sorry, John... you shouldn't have to see this... weakness."

He tightened his arms around him, speaking softly, fingers stroking over his back, over more scars. "I can take them from you, if you want me to. But... all I see, love, is strength. Everything you've overcome, everything you fought, and won...." He slipped his fingers into Daniel's hair, claiming his mouth, warm and gentle, trying to reassure him with his presence, protect him.

"Show me," the blonde whispered softly. "Please, John...."

He gathered Daniel to him, leaving words behind for stronger reinforcement, for touch and kisses and intimate embraces, for losing himself to the joy of giving Daniel pleasure, and receiving pleasure in turn. Sharing emotion so strong that he forgot about everything else, like nothing else existed in the world but that moment, their overwhelming need and passion and love.

Afterwards, he held the doctor tightly, Daniel clinging to him, breath coming in choked sobs, and he lifted his face to press his lips to his cheeks, feeling moisture, tasting salt. "Daniel?"

"I believe you," Daniel gasped, catching his mouth for a trembling kiss. "Oh god, John - ! I do, I believe you."

John smiled, and silenced him with another kiss, long and gentle and possessive, holding him close. "Thank you," he breathed softly, mind not quite processing the series of events that had brought them to this place, but knowing that somehow, he'd accomplished his aims in the best way possible. "Thank you, love... thank you, Daniel."


	14. The Devil: Temptation

Tarot - The Devil

**Temptation**

There was something about John Murdoch, something addicting, something that made Daniel ache for him when they were apart, something that made him want to crawl inside his skin when they were together. Some small corner of his psychiatrist's mind regarded this dispassionately, analytically. Tried to tell the rest of him that it wasn't healthy. It didn't succeed.

His body hurt, scar tissue from old injures flaring up with the sudden sharp increase of athletic activity in his life. And even though some part of him knew that he'd done this before, somewhere long ago when he was a different person, he ached from it now, from the enthusiastic desperation of their passion. He couldn't tell John, John who touched him more tenderly than he'd ever thought possible. John, whose gentle, careful hands and beginner's enthusiasm wrought the most delicious pleasure in him, who let him forget for a time everything that had happened, forget all the scars.

It was so easy to believe in those moments that nothing else mattered, nothing else existed in the universe but the two of them, their need, their love. And so he didn't complain when John tugged him back to bed, kept him from work, days passing in indulgence. Making love, loosing themselves to desire. Eating, bathing, sleeping in exhaustion. Curling together in Daniel's soft bed, whispering soft words of love and devotion, words that made Daniel's heart ache so wonderfully.

Still, his mind went back to the reason for their argument, the concerns that he couldn't quite push away. He curled closer to John and sighed, rather wishing he could set aside his conscience, stay like that forever.

John's fingers were gentle on his skin, stroking over his back. "What's wrong, love?"

"Work," Daniel murmured, nestling his face into John's shoulder. "I can't set aside the feeling of dread... or responsibility. I wish I could. But... it's too easy for the city to dissolve into anarchy at a moment's notice, with the way things are now." He raised his head, meeting John's clear green eyes with his own. "I cannot in all good conscience sit by and do nothing when my actions are what put us all in this state...."

John shook his head. "It wasn't your choice...."

A soft smile. "Coercion or not... I need to make restitution, John." He looked down, feeling suddenly vulnerable. "But... I can't fix it alone, love... I don't have your gifts...."

John's lips pressed to his forehead, his touch warm, calming. Driving away the uncertainty. "And I don't have the knowledge to do it alone. So we'll do it together. However you advise, whatever you think we need to do, I will do." John was silent for a moment, hands slipping from his back to his side, fingers dancing slowly over his scars, and Daniel wondered if John knew how sensitive the skin was, knew how powerful his touch was. "It's just... hard to stop myself from touching you...."

He shivered, tilting his head up wordlessly to receive his kiss, warm desire awakening, overtaking reason. "...tomorrow?"

John pulled him closer with a soft, appreciative moan, voice husky against his mouth. "Tomorrow."


	15. The Chariot: Remember, Remember

Tarot - The Chariot

**Remember, Remember**

They bombed City Hall. It was the only real plan they could come up with, to replace a mayor and countless city employees that just... had never really existed.

It was complicated, far more complicated than John had anticipated, to blow up an empty building and make it seem like it was full of people, without actually killing real people. In the end, he had to arrange for 8 stalled automobiles, 2 backed up toilets, a handful of stuck house doors, and in a last act of desperation, an automobile crashing into the subway station entrance closest to the building, holding up three train loads of people for over an hour and a half.

They moved quickly through the empty building, Daniel holding the time card sign in sheet listing all fake city employees that they needed to kill off, and the file with the photos they'd gleaned from the newspapers and public records created by The Strangers.

And John created the bodies. He hadn't really thought about what it would entail, not until he Tuned the first one into existence, not until he saw it laying on the floor. His rational mind knew it wasn't real, knew it wasn't anything more than protein, water, calcium, and other substances haphazardly put together in human shape, but part of him couldn't get past the fact that it looked human, that it looked dead, lifeless, laying there on the floor. Creating such a thing felt wrong in his brain, and he couldn't shake the notion that it might get up, nothing but a soulless wraith.

When Daniel came into the room, he was pale and shaking, retching over the garbage can. The doctor helped him to his feet, saying nothing, gently guiding him out of the room, an arm around his shoulders, comforting. "I'm sorry to make you do this," he said softly, stroking his back.

John shook his head. "No... it needs to be done." A little wearily, he Tuned a glass of water, rinsing his mouth into a nearby wastebasket. "Let's go."

They finished as quickly as he was able, creating the fake corpses from the hallway, out of site whenever possible. Tucked the important sign in sheet at the front entrance, where there would hopefully be a small enough amount of damage for the list to be retrievable. Then he Tuned the carefully researched quantity of explosives into the foundation of the building, exiting discretely in tunnel Tuned through concrete and soil into the basement of a nearby building, and outside, far from the scene of the crime.

They could just see the building when John activated the charges, and they stood in silence for a moment, watching it crumble, listening to the approaching sirens.

"I feel a little like Guy Fawks," Daniel mused beside him, and John turned, giving him a quizzical look.

"Who?"

Daniel smiled. "Old earth history. There's stories in some of the books, they quite romanticized him. I'll tell you the whole story, sometime." He slipped a hand into John's, squeezing it reassuringly. "You did well, love. There will be a grand parade, and perhaps a monument, and those who didn't make it in to work this morning will call it an act of God. But in a few weeks time, the city will have a real government instead of a fake one."

John let out a long sigh, feeling stress melt away at Daniel's praise that he didn't know he had been carrying. "And we're one step closer to sleeping easy at night."

Daniel caught his eye, a cheeky smile playing about the corners of his lips, quirking a brow ever so slightly, betraying his carefully neutral voice. "Well, if that's what's troubling you, I can recommend a few exercises that will help you sleep better."

John laughed, suddenly feeling much more at ease, squeezing his hand and starting off with him down the street. "Lets go home."


	16. The Sun: Safe

Tarot - The Sun

**Safe**

With the immediate problem of the government taken care of, John turned his attention to a more personal vendetta. He could see the terror in Daniel's eyes whenever they went out at night, or whenever their conversation went near the Strangers, and he hated it, hated seeing that fear, hated his own fear that more of them could be out there, seeking vengeance as their dying act against the doctor for his betrayal. He wrestled with how to broach the subject with Daniel, then simply came right out with it over breakfast.

"I'm going underneath today. I want to try and block off any access routes to the surface they can find. If there's any more of them still alive, I want to make it very difficult for them to do anything without attracting my attention."

Daniel sipped his tea quietly, but John could see that the fingers holding the cup had turned very white. His voice was carefully calm. "I'll go with you."

"Love..." John reached across the table to touch his arm gently. "You don't have to."

"No..." Daniel set the cup down, letting out a deep breath. "No, I do. You may know the city, but you don't know the underneath like I do. You need me to come with you."

John wanted to argue, but he knew the doctor was right. He gave a soft sigh. "You sure you'll be ok?"

Daniel gave him a soft smile. "Sometimes it is best to face one's fears, John." He poured himself another cup of tea, adding milk and sugar and stirring it silently, more than was necessary. "Do you think there are many of them left?"

John hesitated. "I'm really not sure. The one that - that attacked you - completely blindsided me. Now that that's happened...." He shrugged. "Sometimes I think I feel them trying to use the machine. They can't control it now, and they haven't tried to change it back. It almost seems like..." he hesitated. "Like they don't have any focus...."

Daniel gave a slow nod. "It struck me, on occasion, that Book was likely the nucleus of whatever they were, whatever group consciousness they had, and now that he is gone they don't have any direction to their thoughts. But I'm not sure if it would stop them from reacting if they saw either of us again, like that one did the last time you went underground." He looked up at him worriedly, though John could see that he was trying very hard to mask it. "Is it safe, for us to go...?"

He cupped Daniel's hand in both of his. "I won't let anything happen."

In the end, it was a much less eventful trip than either of them could have hoped for, though it didn't stop Daniel from starting at any unexpected noise, his body tense. They traveled through the spiral of tunnels, more efficiently with Daniel's direction than John could have without him, working in near silence. Eventually, they were both satisfied that every upwards tunnel had been sealed off, collapsed or filled in without threatening the structural integrity of the underneath or the precious machines they held. It was an easy task for him despite the magnitude of it, requiring very little concentration, just power from the machines. Then, none too soon for the both of them, they ascended back up the shaft closest to Daniel's building, with John filling it in behind them. Re-emerged out of the darkness into the mid afternoon sun.

He heard Daniel let out a long sigh, suddenly looking very tired, and John slipped an arm around his waist, nuzzling his hair. "Are you all right, love?"

Daniel gave a little nod, but his body was still tense. "I am. I - I'm just glad that task is over with, glad that we're back in the daylight." He looked at John anxiously. "Do you think that it's strange that we didn't see a hint of Them?"

John wet his lips, not wanting to say what he was thinking, which involved the possibility that the Strangers had abandoned the underground all together to hide amongst the half empty buildings of the city. Part of him was almost disappointed that they hadn't found any. He would have welcomed the opportunity to ensure they were destroyed. "Well..." he said slowly, "After what I did to the last one, and to Book... maybe they're smart enough to stay away. There can't be many of them left, after all."

"It just seemed," Daniel said softly as they entered his building, waiting for the elevator, "that there were so many opportunities where they might catch us unguarded. The underneath is their home, after all. They know it better than I."

John pressed a soft kiss to his hair. "Don't think about it too much, love. They can't have the ability to use the lifts, to travel very fast, not without being able to Tune the way they used to. I'd know in an instant if they ever managed to tap into the machines. We're simply faster than they are." On impulse, he turned his attention to the roof, to the barren patio beside the penthouse suite on the top of the building. Sensing, Tuning, sacrificing part of the floor underneath it for a few structural changes....

"John?" Daniel's voice pulled his attention back as the elevator stopped, and he smiled apologetically.

"Sorry, love. Just thinking."

"Of?" Daniel tilted his head with a little curious smile.

John was quiet for a moment, not exiting the elevator. "Just wondering," he started, "why you live on the fourth floor with your office when there's so many nicer residential suites above you... like the penthouse."

Daniel gave a soft laugh. "They used it, sometimes. And it was easier for me to be closer to the office. But it is a very nice space up there... I can show you, if you're curious."

John smiled, and hit the button for the top floor, keeping his other arm around Daniel's waist. "You want to move up there? I can arrange it. We could have a huge bedroom overlooking the city with big bay windows to let in the sun.... a library with vaulted ceilings, a piano...."

"A piano? You don't play, John."

John laughed. "No, I don't. But it would be very pretty to have one."

The landing the elevator opened onto had only one door, which John unlocked with the smallest touch of power, letting them inside. There was no furnishings, but the space itself was opulent, in marble and rich golden wood, painted in muted jewel tones, similar to Daniel's suite with much higher quality. Higher ceilings too, John noted approvingly as they moved through the rooms on the lower level of the two floor split. "I like this space. I could change anything you wanted, of course. It's a bit large just for two people, but... maybe we should indulge in some luxury, since we can....

Daniel chuckled. "Well," he said, "I would like more windows. And perhaps some kind of garden on the terrace - here, let me show you...." His voice trailed off as he walked through the next set of doors, into a sun room lush with vibrant greenery. Beyond the windows, the terrace had been transformed, the edges of the roof lined with tall bushes that blocked the view of the nearby, shorter buildings, leaving the idea that the terrace was isolated against the clear blue sky. The terrace itself had been tiled in white and gold stone, large planters of more greenery around ornamental fountains. And in the middle, a wide pool set into it, along with a smaller, jetted pool near the door, which bubbled happily in the sunshine. Daniel turned to look at him slowly. "This wasn't here before."

John gave a little guilty smile. "I thought we might like a place private to enjoy the nice weather. And a sun room for cool days."

"It always seems to be nice weather when you're around," Daniel remarked slowly with a little smile, walking towards the french doors slowly, looking almost a little overwhelmed as he tried to take it all in. "This is... this is really beautiful, John. Thank you."

John smiled, slipping an arm around Daniel's waist, opening the doors and taking him out into the summer air. "This is almost better than the beach. No, it is better, because there's no one else here. No tan lines." He smirked. "Do you suntan, Daniel?"

The blonde was silent for a moment, looking over it all with a little wistful smile, hair shining golden in the sunlight. "I think I would like to... but I'm not sure if it would make my scars stand out more," he mused, and John found himself thinking that there was a little vanity still left in him after all, something that the doctor tried to hide. His fingers itched to tune away the things that obviously still bothered the doctor, despite his bravado regarding it, but he didn't want to insult the other man by suggesting it.

Instead, he started to unbutton his shirt, slipping out of his shoes. "Come in the hot tub with me, then. Lets just relax and enjoy the sunshine."

"Hot tub, John? In this weather?"

He laughed. "Well, it's not exactly hot at the moment. Just jetted. Just for soaking, relaxing."

Daniel hesitated, then started to undress as well, eyes glancing around as if he expected someone to walk in on them. John caught his eye with a smile and tuned a simple screen into existence in front of him, between them and the edge of the terrace. "Better?"

"Yes, thank you," Daniel gave a little embarrassed smile. "I'm not as confident as you are, I'm afraid."

John dropped his trousers, tuning a lounge chair into being and tossing his clothes onto it before moving to help Daniel, catching his mouth with a warm kiss. "You have nothing to be self-conscious about around me," he said softly, undoing the other's pants and tugging them off his hips, along with his underwear. "Don't you know by now how attractive I find you...?"

Daniel gave a little shiver against his mouth. "Yes... I'm sorry, John. It's just my own feelings that are difficult to overcome." He pulled back with a soft smile, setting his clothes beside John's on the lounge and slipping into the water.

John followed, Tuning a stack of large, fluffy towels at the edge of the tub and pulling one down for Daniel, who set his glasses on it on the side of the pool. The water was only slightly cooler than the heat of the sun, comfortable and refreshing. He settled onto one of the higher ledges, water just up to his waist. "Come here, love."

Daniel picked a spot slightly below him, lower in the water, and leaned back against him with a soft sigh. "This is very nice, John. Thank you."

John let his hands rest on Daniel's shoulders, rubbing them gently and smiling with the blonde let out a soft, appreciative sigh, feeling him slowly, finally, relax under his fingers.

"It's difficult to think about unpleasant things out here like this," Daniel said softly. "Everything seems so safe in the sunlight...."

"We are safe," John replied softly, urging him forward a little to slip between him and the wall of the tub, slipping his arms around his waist and fitting himself against his back, nuzzling his neck. "This is our space... nothing here we don't want, no one but us."

Daniel leaned back into him with a little contented sigh, fingers smoothing over John's hands on his chest, one moving to stroke his thigh lightly. "I like the sound of that very much, love."

"Good." John nuzzled his hair gently, his fingers stroking small circles on his chest under the water despite himself, lightly brushing a nipple. He buried his face in Daniel's blonde locks, surrounded by gold and sunshine and warmth, voice low and warm. "Now think about how nice it will be to make love out here..."

Daniel gave a little shiver, slipping off the ledge and turning to kiss him, warm and yearning. "Is that a hint...?"

"Maybe." He grinned, tightening his arms around him. "Have I sold you on moving to the penthouse yet?"

Daniel smiled, as sweet and bright as the sun that beat down on them. "Yes... yes, I think you have."


	17. The Moon: Like Ice

Tarot - The Moon

**Like Ice**

Daniel still had nightmares. Not often, not nearly as often as he had before John had come back, in the days immediately following the city's salvation, when he had been alone, his life without direction. And far less often than he'd had during the city's years of darkness, during his slavery to The Strangers, when he'd experienced so much pain at their hands that even now, looking back, he wasn't quite sure which of them were real and which of them were nightmares, reliving their tortures again and again in his dreams.

When he and John had ventured underneath the city, into the crumbling ruins of the Stranger's former domain to search for any other surviving monsters, it had chilled him more than he let on. Even with John by his side, even with his light and warmth, it had been far too easy to remember everything that had happened, remember what they'd done to break him, control him. To remember the pain of their knives, the chemical burns on his skin, the toxic fumes that had scorched his lungs. The horrible metal frame they had closed him into after they'd broken his leg. The frame that held him upright all the time against his will, mobile only by dragging himself very slowly with his good leg, the metal biting into his hips, his armpits, his broken limb dragging painfully, the bone finally knitting, but badly, giving him his limp. He couldn't remember why they'd broken it. The why never mattered to them, though.

Sometimes he'd thought that the real experiment was not the city at all, but him.

In the beginning, they'd just beat him. When they recruited him they beat him until somehow he'd agreed to what they wanted, as horrible as it was. He couldn't remember the details, not now. Perhaps he'd thought that if he gave the appearance of complacence, that he could somehow stop them from the inside. And indeed, he had faint memories of making things very difficult for them at first, making intentional mistakes to set them back, invalidated countless experiments. Or disappearing into the city, hiding, delaying precious time lines, ruining deadlines, making them waste efforts on finding him, punishing him. They'd hated it. Sometimes he hoped they'd kill him, but it seemed that they could manipulate the state of his living body as well as they could the dead ones they inhabited. They'd broken his fingers, once, by mistake. "Most inconvenient," Book had said, pulling the bones back into place, painfully, and then his hand was engulfed in extreme heat, and was whole again, like nothing had happened. Maybe that was when they'd broken his leg. And maybe watching him in that cage had made them slowly aware of the power of humiliation.

The next time he'd disobeyed, Mister Hand had tried another tactic. It was almost always Hand that carried out his punishment. It seemed he was more aptly named than some of the others. And while some of them appeared almost entirely without personality, some even timid around him, he had quickly come to realize that regardless of their communal memory, Hand was of the part of them that had no problems being assertive. Aggressive. Cruel.

They'd found him in the city, Hand and the ones that he'd began to think of in a moment of dark humour as Hand's posse. Quick and Wall and that horrible one in the body of a little boy. Sleep. He never used the irritating honorifics when he thought of the strangers in his mind. What was the point? They were all Mister so-and-so, regardless of the gender of the dead body the inhabited. The Posse had drug him back underground, to the center of the city, where the clock ran, where they all gathered nightly to Tune. He hadn't struggled. They would just beat him bloody, then probably put him back in the cage, force him to work. He was accustomed to it. If he'd known what was coming, he would have fought tooth and nail to get away.

That was the dream that came back, time after time. The dream that haunted and tortured him, the dream that even the comfort of John's embrace couldn't protect him from that night.

_ Hand throwing him up against the wheel in the middle of the room, the leather straps snaking around his wrists and ankles to bind him, over his forehead, pulling him immobile on the device. But they don't intend to inject him again, not this time, and the wheel stays upright. They are talking, the air filled with that horrible clicking sound, and Hand speaks real words. "The Doctor still resists our efforts. It is most.... inconvenient. We propose a new course of action to bring him into line."_

Book's voice, ancient, sounding almost bored. "We will leave the Doctor's punishment in your capable hands, Mister Hand."

And then almost before Daniel can understand what their intention is, he is strung up and stripped, his body turned against him, made to feel the most repulsive, unnatural pleasure, humiliated in the most base way possible in front of hundreds of eyes. He begs over and over for mercy, for them to stop, but there is no response, nothing but the continued punishment and shame.

And eventually his conscious thought stops, unable to continue to process the horror, and he stops begging, and the only sound is his gasping, sobbing breath, and Hand's fingers on his skin, punishing him. His damaged lungs can't pull in enough air, as much as his body struggles to do so. Somehow this makes the pleasure more intense, his mind swimming in a sea of lightheaded blackness as the overwhelming shocks of it build, hard and fast, his heart thudding painfully fast in his ears. Building, cresting, breaking in a shower of horrible, overwhelming sensation that shudders through him. And his mind finally protects him, protects him too late, taking his consciousness, plunging him into darkness.  



	18. The Star: Sleep Without Fear

Tarot - The Star

**Sleep without Fear**

Darkness, pain. Ice.

"Daniel! Daniel - love, please - !" John's voice, panicked in the darkness. John's hands, arms, body curled around him, trying to comfort him and pull him from the dream. He tried to latch onto that voice, that lifeline, anything to get away, to keep from being engulfed by the terror and humiliation. He tried to call for him, drawing a harsh, shuddering breath.

"John - !"

"I'm here, love. Come back to me. You're dreaming..."

"Remembering," he gasped, before he could stop himself, and he could feel tears on his cheeks, feel his body shaking with helpless sobs, shivering with the cold despite John's body against him.

"Love..." John's voice was almost helpless, soft kisses pressed to his hair, nuzzling his cheek, kissing away tears. "God, you're freezing," he murmured, pulling the heavy quilt more tightly around them, hands stroking over his skin gently, trying to warm him. Slowly he began to get control of his breath, the tears stopped, but he couldn't shake the terror, the shame, and curled back against John, knees pulled up to his chest, shivering.

"I'm sorry," he managed to whisper finally. "I didn't mean...."

"Shhhh..." John's voice is soft, gentle, a hand finding his, squeezing it gently. "It's all right... just relax, love."

"I'm sorry," he repeated, hardly audible. "I try so hard not to remember...."

He felt his lover shudder a little at his back, curl more tightly around him, protectively. "I couldn't wake you," he murmured, rich voice wavering a little. "I tried, love. I'm so sorry. You just kept gasping, begging for it to stop...."

Daniel closed his eyes with a little shudder, mind drawn back to the memories despite himself. He tried to focus on reality, his mind registering with faint relief that at least the torturous pleasure had been confined only to his subconscious, this time. He couldn't face the shame of also having to explain a wet dream to John, on top of everything else. "I'm sorry," he simply whispered again.

Then came the question, the words he'd been dreading. John's voice, a mix of rage and pity. "What the hell did they do to you?"

Daniel closed his eyes again, aching, letting out a long breath. "Anything they could do, anything to break me," he said finally, surprised at the rawness of his own voice. "And when that failed..." he stopped, choking on his words, bringing his hands up to cover his face as if to hide from it. "They turned my own body against me," he gasped, hardly audible. "Humiliated me...."

John's voice was helpless. "Love... I don't understand...."

Daniel shook his head very slightly, biting his bottom lip hard against the memories. "I can't -" he managed to whimper, fighting the darkness in his mind. "It's better... that you don't. No one should have to understand something like that."

John didn't answer, a touch, gentle, on his skin. Warm. Alive. Fingers slowly tracing the rough white lines on his skin. "The scars...?" he asked softly, helplessly.

Daniel shook his head, curling tighter into himself, fetal. "Scars you can't touch," he whispered. "And I can't... I can't fix myself. I can't stop it, John..."

"Come here," John said softly, leaning over him to gently, insistently pull his arms away from his chest, uncurl his body from the knot it had formed in terror. Pulling him into his arms, against the warmth of his skin. "I won't let anyone hurt you, not ever again. I promise you that." he whispered almost fiercely, and the strength and passion of his words somehow broke through the ice cold bands of terror around Daniel's heart, who clung to him, tension breaking into helpless sobs.

"Shhh...." John murmured, kissing his forehead, tucking Daniel's head safely against his chest. His hands smoothed gently over his hair, his back, slow and comforting. Warmth seemed to emanate from them, calming his aching muscles, and he felt his body slowly relax, exhausted in the absence of the adrenaline that had pumped through his veins. His sobs died, breath calming, relaxing. Safe.

His skin was warm where John's hands had been, warm and tingling, a warmth that slowly moved through his body, leaving him relaxed and strangely without pain. Still, he didn't realize what John was doing, not until his lover's hand smoothed down onto his thigh, the warmth intensifying pleasantly, through his skin and muscle, down into the bone.

"John? What are you....?"

"Shhhh..." John breathed softly, carefully, his focus elsewhere. "Don't.... move....."

He opened his eyes to protest, but stopped, letting them fall closed again. Giving in to the sweet warmth, soothing, gently stretching and smoothing damaged muscles.

Healing.

"Why?" He asked softly, when John finally moved his hand.

The other man cupped his face gently, guiding it up to meet his gaze, intense even in the near darkness. "For love," he said, softly. "My own selfish desire not to see you hurt. So if I can't fix... if I can't stop your nightmares, at least I can do this."

He closed his eyes with a little shiver. "John...."

"Shhh...." Lips pressed to the corner of his damaged eye, gentle. "Just one more...."

And the warmth touched his skin gently, fixing his eyelids, fixing the scars on his face, the thin white line under his eye that They had made that day....

John's fingers stroked his forehead, his hair. "I want you to rest," he said softly, "Rest and let your mind and body heal. Sleep without fear. I won't leave your side. Do you trust me?"

"Undoubtably, love. But I don't think... sleep and I are meant to be...."

"Shhh," John said again softly, kissing his forehead, and he felt a great calm overcome him, the wild flutters of fear left in the depths of his mind faltering, shutting down. And as oblivion took him, promising blissful silence with no dreams at all, he heard John whisper, "Sleep."


	19. Judgement: Flood

Tarot - Judgement

**Flood**

Waking up was a little disorienting, though the familiar comforts were there. John's body against him, arms around him, warm and protective. The familiar softness of his bed. Rain drummed on the window, and the rhythm was strangely soothing.

Then he realized what was bothering him. Or rather, what wasn't bothering him: Pain. No discomfort, none of the aches in his muscles, in his leg, and he blinked sleepily, easily, without the pull of the scar tissue on his eyelid. Suddenly the previous night came flooding back - the dream, John's selfless healing. "Oh...."

Oh his back, John's hand moved, stroking slowly over his skin. "How are you feeling?" he asked, voice warm and soft, with no trace of sleep to it.

Daniel moved just enough to look up at him with a little smile, not wanting to break the intimacy of their embrace. "Better," he replied softly, and it was true. He felt well rested, and in daylight, in John's arms, the memories seemed far away. "Thank you, love."

John smiled, moving a hand to touch his face, tracing his features, and Daniel closed his eyes, enjoying the touch with a little smile. "I'm going to have to get used to seeing you like this..."

The doctor gave a very soft laugh, a little self conscious. "It shouldn't be hard. Nothing unpleasant now."

"It was never unpleasant to me," John replied softly, nuzzling his hair, holding him closer. "I just might find myself expecting you to tell me to pay attention in class, that's all...."

He chuckled, and curled into him with a soft, contented sigh. "How long have you been awake?"

"A couple hours," John admitted. "Just wanted to lay here with you for a while and think." He was quiet for a long moment, fingers smoothing up and down Daniel's back slowly, face nestled into his hair. Then he spoke again, softer, tentative. "It.... was sexual, wasn't it. What they did to you."

He closed his eyes, curling into him a little more, but it wasn't so terrifying to think about, now that the night was gone. "Not in the way you'd expect, but yes." John shuddered, arms tightening around him, and Daniel wished that his lover didn't have to share this pain.

"Have I ever hurt you?" John's next question was half whispered, and Daniel raised his head to meet his worried gaze, slipping a hand up to cup his cheek.

"Never," He replied, voice a little husky, which surprised him. "And don't think for a moment that it has had any effect on how I feel for you or how we are together. You drive away the darkness in me."

"I couldn't last night," John replied, clearly miserable. "God, if I ever see another one of them alive, I'll tear him limb from limb...."

"Shhhh." Daniel placed a soft kiss to his lips. "It's over, love. Just stay by my side... it's the best thing I can have, right now. You've helped me so much more than you might ever realize."

John gave a soft sigh, returning the kiss, arms tight around him. "If I could give back even half of what you've done for me," he murmured softly, "I'd be a very happy man."

They lay in silence for several long moments, curled into each other, each taking quiet comfort in the closeness of the other. Then they dressed quietly, slowly, as if words would break the calming feeling of the silence, moving out into the apartment.

Passing the door to his office, Daniel caught sight of something -- not quite right -- out of the corner of his eye, and stopped for a closer look, opening the door. "John? Where is my... everything??

His lover reappeared, looking a little guilty. "Ah... I moved it all upstairs while you were sleeping. Sorry... can we move today?"

A little overwhelmed by the sudden change, Daniel gave a soft laugh. "I suppose we can, love." He glanced out the window. "Though it's not really very nice weather for...." his voice trailed off, and he turned back to him. "... rain, John?"

His dark haired lover looked more guilty, and distinctly uncomfortable. "Ah, yes."

He slipped his hand into John's, standing closer to him, voice soft. "Any particular reason why?"

John avoided his attempt for eye contact. "I just... it has to rain sometimes. Now is as good a time as any...."

"You normally make it rain at night," he replied quietly, bringing up a hand to cup his face, gentle, trying to be reassuring. "Love... what's the matter?"

John looked down, silent for a long moment. "I...." A deep breath. "I'm flooding the city."

For a moment, Daniel couldn't register, couldn't process his words. "You're... what?"

His lover wet his lips, then raised his head, chin out a little defiantly. "I'm flooding the city. It will accomplish everything we need. I can arrange to make certain areas of the city uninhabitable, so we can move people closer together, like you wanted. We can set up a charity, arrange for large anonymous donations...."

Daniel watched him speak, lips parting in amazement. "John... people will die."

Stubbornness, his mouth setting in a firm line. "I'll make sure they won't."

"There's easier ways to do this John, you know that...." He let both hands rest on John's shoulder's, searching his eyes. "Why are you really doing this?"

The other man's chin trembled slightly. "I want to make sure they're all dead. I've already flooded the Underneath, in case any of Them were still lurking down there. Now I have to do the same thing here. I want them to have nowhere to hide from the sun when it stops raining. When the water is as high as I need it, I'll make the rain stop, and I'll search the remnants of every building. They won't live in my city anymore."

Daniel shook his head slowly, breaking his eyes from the intensity in John's green ones. "It's too much, John. Too much of a chance that something could go wrong, just because of me...."

John's fingers cupped his face gently, but his voice was determined, passionate. "I told you I wouldn't let anyone hurt you again. Don't make me break my promise. Don't make me stop this. I need them gone, Daniel. For good." He gave a soft sigh, and his tone turned slightly pleading. "Love, please... trust me."

The doctor's eyebrows knit together in worry. "It's not that I don't trust you, but it's a huge undertaking. We already know that your abilities have limits." He turned his face slightly to kiss John's palm, eyes not leaving his. "I don't want anything to happen to you."

John's lips formed a small smile, green eyes trusting. "I know. But you'll be beside me... right?"

Daniel leaned in with a wordless smile, pressing his lips to John, slipping his arms around his shoulders. "Always, love. I promise. I'll help you in any way I can."

~~~


	20. Justice: Clean Slate

Tarot - Justice

**Clean Slate**

It was three days before John felt confident enough to stop the rains, and almost a week before he could let the flood waters could recede, a week in which the water trapped in the city walls reached past the second floor of most buildings, submersing small houses all together. The city had banded together during the storms, ferrying citizens through the downpour to what little higher ground existed in the city, then into the skyscrapers as the water continued to rise. The good thing, John reflected, about having so many things controlled by the machines, was that it was very easy for him to change things. Food, for instance, which appeared in various warehouses around the city twice a week, was normally attributed to out of city deliveries brought in overnight by boat. A few well placed anonymous messages, and the people thought they'd arranged the redirection of the midnight delivery to a certain office building all on their own. Then food was one less thing that John needed to worry about.

They worked almost around the clock during those days, in a small motor boat, ferrying stranded people to safety. Then, once the rains stopped, they split up. Daniel enlisted in the rescue efforts, organizing living conditions, comforting the shell shocked citizens, then the people of shell beach, who'd weathered the storm in small fishing boats and sought solace now in the city. The doctor cut an impressive silhouette, John realized, with the limp gone, his scars gone. He stood taller. And somehow those around him instinctively looked to him for guidance, just as John had done so many times.

And John began the real search, from sunup to sundown. Searching through the buildings for survivors and supplies, but more importantly, for any trace of Them. He could sense the city, the buildings, where the water went, and if he concentrated very carefully, small ripples in the fabric of it all that indicated some kind of life... either humans, or Them. That's what was most important. He knew that time was of the essence if he was going to keep his promise to avoid any casualties.

Before leaving at dawn, the day the rains stopped, he pulled Daniel aside, placing a pistol into his hand, an extra clip of bullets. "I assume you know how to shoot?"

"Yes..." the doctor hesitated. "But... why?"

"Them." John looked troubled. "I don't anticipate that they'll be able to travel. I'm counting on the water trapping them in whatever building they're hiding in. But I don't want to take any chances. If you see one, aim for the head and shoot.

Daniel nodded slowly, and tucked the pistol into the back of his trousers, hidden under his coat. "I understand." He looked back up at his lover. "And you? How are you feeling?"

John smirked, trying to cover the uncertainty that he actually felt. "Ready and raring to go. This has been easy so far, nothing so complicated as healing you. I'll be fine." He leaned in to kiss him warmly. "Don't worry about me, love. This will be over and done with before you know it."

Daniel nodded bravely, finding a hand and squeezing it gently. "Good luck."

For days, however, he found nothing. No sign of them, nothing but a few pockets of survivors, weathering the storm in the uppermost floors of apartment buildings. He'd tuned himself a small, one man boat in order to avoid the chance of having to carry "helpers", and found that could navigate the city quite quickly. Better yet, no one seemed to question when one man in one small boat came and went as long as he kept pointing the rescue crews in larger boats in the right direction.

As time went on, John was beginning to doubt he'd find anything at all, and wondered if he'd done this all for nothing. He traveled to the city walls - mostly submerged, picking up with the apartment building he had left off at the day before. This area of the city was one that they'd decided would be best to leave unpopulated, so it wasn't as difficult as areas where he had to preserve the structures of the city. There were houses and stores, mostly underwater, that he simply let collapse, fall into rubble at the bottom of the city-turned-lake. Later, he would siphon away bits of matter back into the city's core, so that there would be less of a clean up for the city's good citizens, but for now he saved his energy, letting everything lie where it fell.

The tall buildings were a bit trickier. He would create a tether to each building in the most out of sight place he could find, tune a hole in the building if needed, and go inside to search it thoroughly. If there were no survivors and no supplies that were immediately needed by the survivors, he'd exit, take the boat to a safe distance, and arrange for the building to slowly collapse.

It had become almost routine to him as the fifth day neared it's close, the sun sinking lower in the afternoon sky. He decided to check one more commercial building, near the banks of where the river would normally be, and as he approached he recognized it as the skeezy hotel he'd woken up in so many months ago, with no memories and the ability to tune. He gave a little smile to himself. It would feel good to be rid of this one.

He anchored the boat and opened a hole in the wall with a simple thought, levitating up to land on the wall. But as he did so, he registered that smell, that decay. A glimpse of rotting flesh, that clicking sound, and he jerks back in alarm as a sharp pain rips through his shoulder, throwing him off balance, back off the building and into the water.

The water closes over his head, and he kicked for the surface, cursing himself for being caught off guard, for having become so complacent. He swam for the boat, eyeing the hole in the building warily, and managed to tune himself into it, dripping and gasping for breath. One of their blades was embedded deep into his shoulder, though as he examined himself, he found that thankfully it hadn't hit anything essential, and he carefully pulled it free, mind stitching up the torn tissue and skin. He'd worry about the blood later.

Still watching the hole, he stretched out his awareness to the building, carefully sensing the matter, how it was formed and composed, the space it occupied. And the dark holes of cold that were the Strangers, blips in his awareness that just weren't right, like the fake bodies he'd tuned. Then his mind grabbed the base of the building and pulled, pulled the support for iron and concrete, and it shuddered, crumbling, falling in a rush of rubble and dust, a surge of water that almost capsized him. But his mind held tight to the feeling of them, memorizing it, making sure each icy touch of alien disappeared into the water and slowly ceased to be. With the sensation imprinted on his mind, he had no doubt that clearing out any stragglers in the rest of the city would be simple.

It was done.

He returned to Daniel near sundown, wet and bone weary, trembling a little despite his attempts to stop himself. "I found them." he said softly, as soon as they could get a spare moment away, as Daniel wrapped a blanket around his shoulders. "You were right. They weren't much more than zombies. They surprised me, but they could hardly tune at all, couldn't do much than hurl things at me."

"Are they...."

"Gone? Yes. Finally. Though they caught me off my guard... almost had a knife in my throat."

Daniel shuddered, placing a hand gently on his arm, and John wished they could risk more affection in public. "Oh god, John..."

He smiled. "I'm all right, don't worry. Much better now that they're gone. It needed to be done. I needed to make sure they're all gone, for my own peace of mind. For our safety."

Daniel nodded slowly. "I just wish that you weren't the one that had to do it, John."

John gave him a soft smile. "I know. Lets go home."

They'd thought ahead enough to devote three floors of their building to a bedding store and storage facility, and bedding and mattresses had been moved throughout the building into the empty floors to house refugees. Still, they'd managed to avoid having to open the penthouse, and escaped there now, collapsing into bed in exhaustion, curled in each others arms.


	21. Temperance: Compliment

Tarot - Temperance

**Compliment**

The next few days were a flurry of work, arranging for undesirable buildings to fall in the flood, arranging for a number of the nonexistent citizens to die, some leaving wills with large sums donated to the city's hospitals and charities. Finally, John started to let the waters recede, carefully fortifying the remaining buildings in the city as he did, undoing as much water damage as he could. It left the city almost clean, Daniel found himself thinking. Ready to start anew. And even though he'd never quite been sure about John's plan to flood the city, he found himself realizing that maybe this had been the right direction after all.

The waters receded, and life in the city slowly returned to normal, the summer sun beating down on the streets, and it was difficult to remember the cold and wet.

John was exhausted. Daniel had tried to keep track of everything that he was doing, but it was impossible to know what went on in John Murdoch's head, to watch every area of the city at once for his work. He found the dark haired man on the roof one afternoon, at the edge of the building between two bushes, overlooking the city. He turned to Daniel with a weary smile, skin pale despite the heat. "It's done," he said softly, then tried to take a step toward him and stumbled.

Daniel managed to grab him before he hit the pavement, getting his arms under John's and hauling him to his feet. "I asked you to take it easy, love...." He shifted their position to pull one of John's arms across his shoulders, trying to ensure he could hold him upright, and slowly started inside.

"Couldn't stop..." John replied wearily. "But it's done. And no one dead, 'cept for them. Told you I could do it...."

"Shhh..." Daniel slowly helped him through the doors to the atrium, grateful that the lift to the upper level was directly accessible from it. "I didn't have any doubts that you could. I just didn't want you ending up like this...."

"I'll be ok," John murmured, leaning weakly up against the wall of the lift and giving him a soft smile. "...have you to take care of me."

Daniel gave him a warm smile, kissing him gently as the elevator stopped, feeling suddenly very tender and affectionate. "Well, mister Master and Commander of the city. Lets get you to bed."

John gave a soft, tired chuckle, letting Daniel bundle him into bed, pull off his shoes and undo the top buttons of his shirt. He watched as the doctor pulled the blinds on the big bay windows, dimming the daylight to a golden glow. "Where would I be without you, Daniel?"

The doctor chuckled, perching on the edge of the bed, regarding him. Truthfully, he did often wonder what path John would have taken, without his influence. "You would likely be in a much bigger house and a lot more trouble, and giving yourself a lot more headaches."

"It was a rhetorical question..." John smiled and held out an arm to him. "Come here, you."

Daniel curled against him on the bed, resting his head on his shoulder. "I'm just teasing you. We compliment each other well... we really do." He stroked his fingers slowly over John's chest, voice soft. "I can help you control and find outlet for your passion.... and you... you temper my melancholy..."

John's voice was sleepy. "I hmm...?"

Daniel smiled, pulled a throw over them and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. "Never mind, my love. Rest now. I'll be here."


	22. The World: Vacation

Tarot - The World

**Vacation**

The headaches from over exertion were almost worth the pleasure of being fussed over by Daniel. He slept a lot, but every time he awoke Daniel was there, with soup or fresh fruit or a cup of tea. Helping him eat, change, bathe, with amazing patience. He brought the paper in every morning, sitting beside him in bed and reading aloud the news on the city's recuperation after the flood, everything that the people had accomplished, the changes that were being made. The city's triumph in the face of a perceived tragedy, overcoming the sorrow of the apparent death to become stronger. Their work wasn't over yet, John knew, but the city could survive on its own, now.

"You make a good nurse, doc," John said to him one day with a little smile as Daniel finished taking away the remains of breakfast. "Sure you're in the right line of work?"

The doctor gave a little chuckle, settling back into bed with him and curling up against him. "You must be feeling better, if your sense of humor is making a resurgence."

John kissed his hair, enjoying the closeness. "I have a very dedicated caretaker."

His lover gave a little contented sigh. "I think when you're feeling better we should have a bit of a vacation. The city is handling itself quite well. You deserve a break."

John smiled at the thought, fingers stroking through Daniel's hair. "I'm afraid we don't have much choice in the way of vacation destinations. But we could always take advantage of the roof...."

Daniel raised his head to look up at him, smile warm and promising. "I think that's the best idea I've heard all day."

-- Fin --


End file.
